Operation Sandstorm
by Jennifer Cannon
Summary: What did happen during Operation Sandstorm?
1. Chapter 1

*The usual disclaimers apply. A special thanks to Ermintrude for being a fantastic beta, and for her encouragement and help in writing this story, and to the girls in Wicky chat for their help and encouragement :) I hope you enjoy :)*

**Operation Sandstorm-Chapter One **

**Tuesday, June 12, 1984 **

**Dulles International Airport**

**2:40 PM**

This was supposed to have been a simple operation.

Lee's trained senses quickly took in the scene—frightened weeping passengers, agents, ATF and FBI—all of them focused on the man who held the gun. Davison—his contact. The man's hands trembled as he held the gun steady, his eyes darting wildly back and forth.

And then there was Amanda.

Out of the corner of his eye Lee could see her, crouched in the corner. What the hell was she even doing here? How had she managed to stumble into this? If Davison hadn't spotted her—he couldn't think about that now, though. There had to be a way to salvage this.

"Davison, listen to me, all right?" He kept his voice calm. "You don't have to do this."

"Don't tell me what I have to do."

"Just give me the gun and this can be over—we can walk right out of here."

A disbelieving laugh. "You think I'm stupid? Don't come any closer!" he warned, cocking the pistol as Lee took a step towards him.

"You do and I'll shoot you. I want my money."

"Sure," Lee replied. "As long as you give me what I need."

He looked uncertain. "You'll get us out?"

"Of course. I don't want any trouble either, huh?" All he needed was to exchange the stuff for the money—that way it wouldn't be a total washout. "Hand it over and you'll get what's yours."

Davison was silent for a moment, considering—Lee held his breath, waiting. Then he shook his head.

"No—no, there's something funny going on here—I don't know what, but I don't trust this. You—in the corner!" He leveled the gun in Amanda's direction. "Come here—keep your hands where I can see them."

Damn it, why did he have to pick her? Lee's heart sank as she watched Amanda walk towards them, her face pale and her hands in the air. Her eyes flickered briefly in his direction, probably wondering how he was going to get them out of this—at the moment he didn't have a clue. She walked over to Davison and he pulled her close, pressing the gun against her side.

"The money or I shoot her," he said. "And then we're walking out of here. Hand it over!"

**Dulles International Airport**

**11:50 AM **

"Everything go smoothly in Miami?" Doug Harriman asked as Lee hung up the pay phone.

Lee nodded, adjusting his security guard's cap. "Yeah. Powell said the guy seemed a little antsy, but it went off fine."

"Antsy?" Harriman repeated. "What does he mean by antsy?"

"He was just a little keyed up, that's all." Lee told him. "But there's no problem. The stuff made it on the plane and it should arrive by two."

"We have the money ready? Everyone in place?"

"They will be. As soon as we make the exchange for the drugs and weapons we'll finally nail this ring for good." The drugs were fake, of course— and the weapons had been deactivated—not that the smugglers knew that. "Sandstorm should be a piece of cake."

A short laugh. "That's what you hope."

Lee looked over at the man. "What do you mean?"

"Miami was a crucial link, Lee. And Powell could've screwed it up."

"But he didn't." Harriman just shook his head. "Just what is all this about?"

Harriman sighed. "This is a large multi-agency operation. Do I need to remind you that Powell is a civilian?"

"And do I need to remind you that he's also our contact? Without him we wouldn't even know about this little operation."

"He's still untrained. Our national security should not be in the hands of a bunch of untrained civilians."

"One man hardly constitutes a bunch, Harriman. Powell's already an employee—it was the perfect cover."

"If even one connection goes wrong—"

"Well it didn't go wrong." Lee shot back. The older agent said nothing, shaking his head. "Stop worrying—we've got this in the bag."

"That's what you think," Harriman said. "We could've planted a trained operative in Powell's place. You know why we didn't? Money. God forbid the government has to give up precious dollars for our safety. Remember Malta?"

"That was a bust gone bad—it happens to everyone."

A short laugh."Everyone? A civilian interfered and I took a bullet." Harriman absently rubbed his right shoulder as he spoke. "He never would've gotten away from me otherwise—you know that."

"That was different," Lee said. Together they went back into the security area. The backpack was waiting there—a standard employee issue. He opened it, checking the money, feeling to make sure that the transmitter was still snuggled into the lining. It wasn't likely that the smuggler would get away with the cash but they had to be prepared for every contingency. "This isn't one of your spy novels, Harriman. Accidents happen."

"Especially when outsiders are involved." Harriman looked around. "Don't you think this is a little too open?"

"This is where we have to do it." The older agent's constant complaining was starting to make his head throb. "We'll have the place nailed down so tight that he won't be able to make a move."

"Hey, what do I know—I only have about twenty years of experience in this."

"It'll go down just fine—trust me." Lee closed the backpack. "Anyway, as I was saying, civilians have their uses sometimes—even in the field."

"A convenient change of heart for you, Scarecrow."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?"

The man smirked. "I think you know—I can't be the only one who hasn't noticed your little civilian partner hanging around."

"In the first place, Amanda is not my partner," Lee snapped. "And for your information, she's turned out to be very useful on quite a number of cases."

"So you say—but I wouldn't have her working with me." Harriman looked down at his watch. "I'm going to make the rounds—see if everything's set up."

"Yeah, you go and do that—I'll contact Billy and let him know what's going on."

"Fine. But mark my words, Scarecrow—one of these days a civilian is really going to screw things up—and then we'll all regret it."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK**

**The Agency**

**12:10 PM **

"The stuff should be arriving in a couple of hours, Billy." Lee's voice crackled slightly over Billy's desktop speaker. "Everything is on schedule."

"Excellent." Billy replied. "This final shipment will give us what we need to put these guys away for a long time."

"That's what I'm hoping for."

"You're setting everything up now?"

"Yeah—Harriman's getting everyone into position—in a couple of hours this will be finished."

"Good job," Billy said. "Keep in touch, Scarecrow—I'll talk to you later." He turned off the speaker. There was a knock on his office door.

"Come in," he called out. Amanda opened the door and entered the office.

"Here are the transcripts you wanted, sir," she said, handing them to him. "All done."

"Thank you for these, Amanda," Billy stacked the papers on his desk. "Believe me, we really appreciate it."

"You're welcome, sir," Amanda replied. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"Not at the moment, no. So—any other plans for today?"

"First I need to pick up some flowers and deliver them to the community center," Amanda said. "Then I have some shopping to do after that and there's a den meeting tonight."

Billy smiled. "Sounds like it should be a pretty full day."

"It should be." Amanda hesitated. "Speaking of full days, sir—I was just wondering—"

"Wondering what?"

"Well, about Lee, mainly. I mean, I know he's very busy, but it's been about three days since I've seen or heard from him—I just hope he's all right."

"He's all right, Amanda." Billy told her. "You know I can't tell you exactly what he's working on but he made all his status checks."

"That's good to know," Amanda said. "It's just when I don't hear from him I tend to worry a little."

"I understand, but trust me—Lee's just fine."

"Thank you, sir." Amanda looked at her watch. "Well, I guess I should probably get going now—the florist is in Reston and I need to pick up the flowers by one."

Billy smiled. "See you later, Amanda."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**Arlington Community Center**

**1:20 PM**

"I'm so glad you brought these by," Maureen Simmons said. "With all that's going on I don't think I would've had time to pick them up myself. They're absolutely lovely."

"It's no problem at all," Amanda replied. "Where would you like me to put them?"

"Where—" Maureen studied the baskets, and then looked down at her clipboard, sucking in her lower lip. "Maybe if you could arrange them on either side of the stage? That might make a very nice effect."

"I can do that."

"Great. Just not too close to the wings—the last thing we need is the dancers tripping as they go on and off the stage."

"Good idea." Amanda carried the baskets up the steps to the stage. "Where's everybody else, by the way?"

Maureen sighed. "Hopefully not too far behind. Mr. Bingham's supposed to be here in an hour to do a final check on lights and sound and Julie should've already been here to make some final touchups to the set—which would've been done yesterday if her car hadn't broken down."

"I'm sure it will be fine—the set looks wonderful."

"Yeah, but then there's all the costumes, the parents and dancers arriving—" she let out another sigh and ran her hand back through her hair. "And on top of that I've got to pick up my nephew from Dulles at a quarter-past two. I swear, if this thing manages to go off on time it'll be a miracle."

"I'm sure it'll be just fine," Amanda assured her. "Listen, why don't I go and pick up your nephew?"

"Are you sure? The last thing I want to do is impose."

"You wouldn't be," Amanda said firmly. "Just tell me his name and what flight he's arriving on and I'll pick him up and bring him right here."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**2:15 PM**

"You got everyone in position?" Lee spoke into his walkie-talkie.

"Yeah," Harriman's voice replied. "Right where they should be. If the flight ever arrives."

"The plane's a little late." Lee said, his eyes scanning the passengers coming through the gate. "But it should be any minute now. Relax."

"I'll relax when this is done. Keep your eyes wide, Scarecrow."

"Will do. Over and out." Harriman and his negative attitude, he thought, putting the walkie-talkie in his pocket—he wasn't sure how much more of it he could stand. At that moment he saw their man, coming through the arrivals gate. As Lee had expected he was still wearing his uniform, the same backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Right on schedule," he murmured under his breath, adjusting his hat again and shouldering his bag. He walked up to the man, who was looking all around, his eyes darting this way and that. His hands clutched the strap of his backpack tightly. Antsy—now he could see what Powell had been talking about. "Mr. Davison?"

The man looked up. "That's me. Who are you?"

Lee took a badge out of his inside pocket and flashed it. "Airport security. I want you to come with me."

"Why?" The man asked. "Are you the next stop?"

"No, I'm the end of the line," Lee replied with the pre-arranged code phrase, watching as relief filled the man's eyes. "Do you have what I need?"

A nod. "As long as you do."

"Right this way, sir."

"Thanks." The man followed him down towards the security area. "You know, I almost thought they were going to catch me in Miami."

Lee kept his tone casual. "And what made you think that?"

"It was the way they were looking at me—skulking around. I thought they might stop me for sure."

Antsy was an understatement, Lee thought—this guy was seriously on edge. "They didn't, though."

Sharpness tinged the man's voice. "Didn't what?"

"They didn't stop you."

"No—no—I guess they didn't." The man laughed nervously. "Luck's on my side. I'll be glad when this is all over."

"Believe me, we all will."

"You have the money?"

"Right here in this bag."

"Good. " Davison's eyes flickered to the bag. "And it's the same price we agreed on, right? Ten for the stuff and seven for the arms?"

Lee nodded. "Same as before—that's right." He scanned the area as he walked, noting the agents disguised as passengers and employees. Just like it was supposed to be. Like he'd said before—a piece of cake.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK**

Harriman stood there, watching Lee and Davison move towards the security area. All going well so far, he thought— a simple swap and the whole thing would be done. Maybe Lee had been right—maybe his worries had been unfounded after all. He let his mind wander as he watched the scene play out, thinking back to the rough outline he'd started for his newest book. Not a fiction book this time, but important—if it was done right it would be the most important book of his career—blow the world of intelligence work wide open for everyone to see.

'_Don't start polishing that Pulitzer just yet,'_ he thought, a smile playing over his lips. He still had to write it. Once he did though, things would change.

And that was when he saw her—Amanda King. She was walking towards the arrivals gate, directly in Lee's path.

Just when he'd thought everything was going so well—what was she doing here? And why hadn't Stetson told him?

'_Why would he? He knows my feelings about civilians and he ignored them.'_ Lee must have been insane to even consider adding this to the plan. Harriman's anger grew, forming a tight ball inside his gut and causing his shoulder to throb. Mrs. King had the power to screw everything up and she was going to—he just knew it.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK**

_'Oh God—Amanda.'_

Lee watched her heading towards him and Davison, purse on her shoulder and coat draped over her arm. Why was she here? Probably here to pick up a friend—there was nothing Amanda liked more than being helpful.

'_Of all the times for this to happen…' _He kept his face slightly averted. Hopefully if she noticed him she'd have the good sense not to call out or come over.

"Looking for something?" Davison asked.

"No—no," Lee said quickly. "I'm not looking for anything."

"Do you know that woman over there?"

"No, I don't," Lee said.

"You just looked at her."

"It doesn't mean I know her. Just relax, huh?"

"Trying to," Davison replied. "I guess I'm just a little nervous."

"Well don't be," Lee told him. The sooner they completed this transaction the better. He kept Amanda in his field of vision as she drew nearer. She still hadn't seen him—hopefully it would stay that way. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Let me decide what I have to worry about, okay?"

'I'll be glad to,' Lee thought. The security area was just up ahead. A few more yards and they'd be good to go. Amanda had come to a halt, her head down as she rummaged through her purse. At that moment her head jerked up, her eyes meeting Lee's and widening in recognition. Instead of just ignoring him, though, she quickly ducked into a corner, hiding behind a large plant.

'_Goddamn it, Amanda…' _All the things she could've done—why had she done that?

"Why did she just do that?" Davison asked, echoing Lee's thoughts.

Why indeed. Lee ran through a dozen answers in his head before settling on the honest approach. "I don't know."

"You said you that didn't know her." His tone was accusing.

"That's because I don't," Lee replied.

"It seems like she knows you."

"Maybe she just thinks she knows me."

"So why did she hide?"

"Look, I told you, I don't know. She's nobody." Davison had stopped walking now, breathing hard, his hands clutching the bag so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Come on—let's go back here and get this done."

"I don't think so." The man shook his head. "This is some kind of setup, isn't it? Just like in Miami—something's going on."

"Nothing is going on." Lee told him. "You give me the stuff, I give you the cash and you go." Davison didn't say anything. "Come on now—" Lee stepped towards him.

"No!" Davison's voice rose—he stepped back. "I'm telling you to stay away from me—just stay away!"

"Davison, please—" Before Lee could do anything else the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. He fired a shot into the air and several people screamed.

"Now—no more talk." He pointed the gun at Lee. "Just give me my money."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK**

'_Oh my gosh…'_

From her position behind the plant Amanda watched as the guy pulled out a gun, aiming it at Lee. Lee took a few steps back, his hands up—she couldn't hear exactly what was being said but it was obvious that he was trying to calm the man down.

What had she walked into? She'd thought she'd be helping Lee by keeping out of sight and ducking out of the way. Had she made things worse instead? She could hear the other man shouting now—something about not trusting anybody.

"You –in the corner!" Amanda looked up, seeing the man's gaze focused directly on her. "Come here—keep your hands where I can see them!" Slowly Amanda rose to her feet, her hands in the air as she walked towards the man. She could feel her legs shaking, her heart thudding against her chest. Briefly her eyes met Lee's. He would get her out of this somehow, she thought—she trusted him—he always had a way to get them out. As Amanda walked closer the man reached out and grabbed her, pulling her close, pressing the gun against her side.

"The money or I shoot her," he said. "And then we're walking out of here. Hand it over!"

**SMK SMK SMK SMK**

"Just let her go, Davison," Lee could see Harriman, along with the other agents. They drew closer, tightening the perimeter. "You know you don't need her."

"No, what I need is the money," Davison pulled Amanda closer. "Right now she's my insurance policy."

"If I give you the money will you let her go?"

Davison shook his head. "No deals—I'm sick of deals. Now slide it over here—I won't ask you again."

He had to do it, Lee thought—right now he didn't have a choice. Keeping his eye on Davison he slid the backpack towards him.

"You got your money," Lee told him. "Just take it and let her go. Don't make more trouble for yourself."

Davison said nothing, his finger still on the trigger—for one sickening moment Lee thought he might shoot. Instead he threw Amanda to the ground and picked up the bag and ran, only to be quickly surrounded by agents. Lee bent down, helping Amanda to her feet.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Fine," Amanda replied, straightening her blouse and smoothing her hair.

"You sure?"

Amanda nodded. "Just a little shaky, I guess. What exactly is going on here?"

Lee watched as Davison was wrestled to the ground and cuffed. He could see Harriman watching on the sidelines, his face dark with rage. "A hell of a mess," he replied. "That's what's going on here."

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **

**The Agency**

**3:45 PM**

"Sir, I honestly didn't know that Lee was going to be at the Airport," Amanda said. "I swear, if I had known what was going to happen I never would've been there. "

Lee ran his hand back through his hair. "Amanda, we already know that. That's not the point here."

"Yes, we do know." Billy replied. "But maybe you should tell us exactly how you came to be there. When we spoke earlier you didn't say anything about having to visit the airport."

"Well no, sir I didn't think I would be," Amanda said. "But my friend, Maureen—the one I delivered the flowers to? She was so busy getting ready for a recital and I offered to pick up her nephew from the airport—his flight was arriving at 2:15."

A favor for a friend, Lee thought sourly, rubbing his forehead, trying to stall the headache that was threatening to blossom. Just like he had guessed before. That one lousy errand could end up blowing the whole mission— months of work—he could only guess how Harriman was feeling right now.

"Anyway," Amanda continued. "I was walking toward the arrivals gate and that's when I saw Lee walking with other man—"

"With Davison," Lee corrected her.

"Right, with Davison," Amanda said. "Anyway, I saw that Lee was wearing a uniform, and I guessed that he was on a mission, so I thought I probably shouldn't say anything to him."

"What exactly did you do?" Billy asked.

"Well, I just did the only thing I could think of—I ducked into a corner behind a plant."

"You realize that's what spooked him, right?" Lee's voice rose. "If you'd just kept on walking, he wouldn't have been suspicious!"

Amanda's face flushed. "I guess didn't think about that—I did what I thought was best."

"Yeah, and because of that you ruined just about everything." Lee said.

"I'm sorry—I really didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't." Billy shot Lee a warning glance. "Tell us what happened next."

"I saw Lee and the other man—Davison—talking. Davison seemed really agitated and pulled out a gun and fired," Amanda said. "And then he called me over there and he told Lee that he would shoot me if he didn't get the money. So Lee slid the bag over and the man pushed me down, grabbed the bag and ran."

"Is that everything?" Billy asked.

"Yes, that's everything." Amanda said. "I swear—this was all just a terrible accident."

Billy let out a sigh. "Yes I do understand that, Amanda. Unfortunately—" his voice broke off as a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in." Billy called out. The door opened and Francine entered.

"Well, if it isn't the woman of the hour," she smirked, glancing over at Amanda.

"Knock it off, Francine," Billy snapped. "Was there something that you wanted?"

"Just that Dirk wants to see you and Lee in his office," Francine said. "Harriman's already there. And I believe the words Dirk used were 'immediately, if not sooner.'"

Billy nodded. "Yes, I can imagine the words Dirk used." He rose to his feet. "We'll be right there. In the meantime, Amanda, I'm going to need you to write up a report on what happened—have it on my desk as soon as possible."

Amanda nodded. "Yes sir, I will."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"Let me see if I've got this right, Stetson." Dirk said. "Not only did a civilian housewife manage to ruin one of the largest interagency missions we've ever set up, but you're trying to tell me that she did it by accident?"

"That's exactly what happened," Lee said.

"Mind telling me why she was even there?" Dirk asked.

"She was running an errand for a friend." Lee glanced over at Doug Harriman as he spoke. The older agent just stared stonily ahead, his fists clenched. "Her involvement in this was sheer coincidence."

Dirk raised his eyebrows. "Was it coincidence that Davison chose Mrs. King for a hostage?"

Lee nodded. "That's right."

"From what Harriman tells me, she was the one who spooked him by ducking into a corner."

"Yeah, she did," Lee agreed. "But to be fair the guy was already on edge—almost anything probably would've set him off."

"Except it wasn't almost anything, was it?" Dirk said.

"No, it wasn't," Harriman added. "And for the record I'd like to state that I don't believe Mrs. King was there by accident."

Dirk's eyebrows lifted higher. "Meaning—"

"Meaning that I think Stetson arranged for her to be there," Harriman said. "And because things went wrong, he's trying to cover his tracks."

"Now hold on just a damn minute," Lee looked over at Harriman. "Amanda was not a part of this operation, and you know that."

"How do I know that?" Harriman asked. "She just happens to turn up when things are going down and you want me to believe you had nothing to do with it?"

"She has worked with you on many operations, Scarecrow." Dirk pointed out. '

"Yeah, sure she has—sometimes," Lee admitted. "But I did not get her involved in this!"

"I can vouch for that," Billy said. "Mrs. King had absolutely no involvement, official or otherwise."

"I'm not sure how much your word means at this point, Billy." Dirk's tone was skeptical. "You've covered for her in the past. And as we all know, Mrs. King's methods tend to be—rather less than orthodox."

"Orthodox or not, she's helped us out many occasions." Billy said. "Nevertheless, I am assuring you that this particular incident was not planned."

"So you keep saying. But even if it's true it still doesn't diminish the damage that was done. " Dirk looked at Lee. "There was no way you could've salvaged this?"

"Frankly, I don't see how," Lee said. "Once he was spooked he didn't want to make the exchange—he just wanted the money. Are we still holding him?"

Dirk nodded. "Yes, for all the good it will do. We might get him on assault and weapons charges—with any luck we might get him to provide names of other people in the ring, but that's unlikely."

"What about the previous runs we've made?" Billy wanted to know.

"We'll probably get them for conspiracy and possession with intent to distribute," Dirk replied. "Powell's still on board, I trust."

"He is," Lee said. "His testimony should help us put some of these people away."

"Comforting to know that." A smirk played briefly across Dirk's lips. "But a few convictions are not what we hoped to get from this."

"Still it's better than nothing," Billy said.

"That's a matter of opinion." Dirk paused. "I also want to tell you that Internal Affairs is going to be investigating this matter, including Mrs. King's possible involvement."

"And I'm telling you that she had no involvement." Lee said. "This was an accident."

Dirk smiled thinly. "Then she has nothing to worry about, does she? And even if it was an accident, it just may turn out to be one accident too many."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Lee asked.

"It means precisely what I said." Dirk opened a file on his desk. "In case you've forgotten, Scarecrow, we're not the only agency involved in this. Someone's going to have to be held accountable. Now if you all will excuse me, I have some other work to do."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK**

"I can't believe this!" Lee fumed as he and Billy left Dirk's office. "They're actually going to waste time investigating Amanda? This is ridiculous, Billy!"

"You're not getting an argument out of me," Billy replied. "But since Harriman made the accusation they have to follow it up. That's the standard procedure."

Lee let out a noisy sigh, running his hand back through his hair. "Yeah I know that."

"And you're absolutely sure that Amanda knew nothing at all about this?"

"Of course I'm sure," Lee replied. "I just wish to hell she hadn't been there—I swear; it's like she just finds trouble sometimes."

"Or trouble finds her," Billy said.

A short laugh. "Oh yeah. But I still don't think she deserves to take the fall for this.." His opinion might not count for much, though, he thought—not if Dirk and Harriman had their way. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"It's possible," Billy admitted. "I have some contacts—if we can net a few convictions out of this it won't be a total loss. In the meantime, you should let Amanda know what's going on."

Lee nodded. "I'll do that." Off in the distance he could see Harriman, waiting for the elevator—just the guy he wanted to talk to. "Excuse me, will you?" Without waiting for the station chief to say anything else he strode over to the elevators. Harriman looked up as he approached.

"Something you wanted?" he asked.

"Yeah. I want to know just exactly what the hell you think you're doing," Lee replied. "You know good and well that Amanda wasn't involved in this."

"How do I know that?" Harriman asked. "Because you tell me? You really expect me to believe that your little partner just turns up accidentally?"

"It was an accident."

"Come on." Harriman shook his head. "I wasn't born yesterday, Scarecrow. I think you knew my feelings about civilians and you chose to keep me in the dark."

"I didn't—" Lee started to say but Harriman held up his hand.

"Yes you did. Just like you chose to disregard my warnings about making the exchange in the open."

"It had to be done in the open—you know that."

"I know nothing of the kind," Harriman replied. The elevator pinged softly and opened. "What I do know is that things have to change around here, and I'm going to be the one to make those changes."

"And just how do you plan to do that?" Lee asked. Harriman didn't reply, moving towards the elevator. Lee grabbed his arm. "Just hold on—you're not going anywhere."

"Let go of me." Harriman spoke softly through gritted teeth. "And as to how I plan to do this, Scarecrow—let's just say that one day you'll be reading all about it." With that the older agent pulled his arm out of Lee's grasp and stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind him.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**4247 Maplewood Dr**

**5:30 PM **

"And in other news," the radio announcer intoned. "A hostage situation this afternoon brought Dulles International Airport to a standstill. Details are still sketchy, but it's believed that a woman was briefly taken hostage and shots were fired. No injuries have been reported and the man involved in now in custody. We'll let you know more details as they become available."

"That's enough of that." Amanda reached over and switched the radio off. Bad enough to have to remember what had happened without having to hear it all over the news. The oven timer beeped. Grabbing an oven mitt, she opened the oven and took out the cookie sheet, placing it on the counter. She'd let them cool for a bit before transferring them to the plate with the others.

"It looks like it might rain." Dotty announced, coming in the back door. "And the weatherman promised such a beautiful day."

"Well, you know, the weather forecast has been wrong before," Amanda replied.

"I'll say so—especially since Dean was transferred to that station over in Charlottesville." Dotty took off her gardening gloves. "It just hasn't been as—reliable as it used to be."

Dean again—sometimes Amanda thought her mother regretted the breakup more than she did. "You might have a point there, Mother."

"Yes. Still, at least I got my weeding done." Dotty looked over at the cookies. "Isn't that a bit much for a den meeting?"

"Well, they're boys," Amanda said. "With the way they eat, three batches seemed like a safe bet."

"They certainly won't run out." Dotty reached over and grabbed one of the cookies. "Did you hear about the excitement over at Dulles?

"Excitement?"

"Mrs. Ferguson next door was telling me that a woman was actually taken hostage."

She wasn't going to be able to get away from it, Amanda thought—no matter what she did. "Yeah, I did hear something about that on the radio just now," she replied, keeping her tone casual. "Apparently they have the suspect in custody."

"That's what's I heard too." Dotty went to the fridge and grabbed the carton of milk and a glass from the drainer. "Wasn't that about the time that you were there? You must have seen something."

Amanda shook her head. "No, not really. I mean—I might have seen police cars and stuff, but I guess I was just at a different gate or something."

Dotty shook her head. "You never see anything exciting, Amanda."

"I know, Mother." At that moment Amanda spotted Lee, standing in the backyard and looking at her. "Listen, I'm going to go outside and get the cushions off the lawn chairs—if it's going to rain I don't want them to get wet."

"Good idea. Make sure the Ferguson's dog isn't out there again—last time he jumped the fence and absolutely trampled all my roses."

"I will, Mother—be right back." Amanda opened the back door and stepped outside.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Lee said.

"Not really—I was just baking some cookies for the den meeting tonight—chocolate chip and macadamia."

"Sounds very good."

"Yeah. I wrote up the report, by the way."

"That fast?"

"Remember, I type ninety words a minute," Amanda said. Lee gave a brief smile but she could see that knot in his jaw—a clear sign that he was upset. "So—what's going on? Is something wrong?"

Lee hesitated. "Not exactly. I just thought you should know that Dirk is launching an Internal Investigation into what happened at Dulles—including your involvement in the matter."

"But I didn't have any involvement—I was only there by accident."

"Believe me, I know that," Lee replied. "Unfortunately , when an allegation is made they have to look into it."

"An allegation?" Amanda repeated. "Who made the allegation?"

"None other than Douglas Harriman."

Amanda's eyes widened. "The Douglas Harriman? You mean the one who writes all the spy novels?"

Lee ran his hand back through his hair. "That's the one. He was working with me on this case."

"But why would he think I was involved?"

Lee sighed. "Because he's got this thing about civilian employees, that's why. And when he saw you there he jumped to the wrong conclusion and assumed you were with me."

"But when they investigate, they'll find out I had nothing to do with it. Right?" Amanda said. Lee said nothing. "Lee, what's going to happen?"

"I wish I could tell you. This was a huge operation involving multiple agencies, Amanda—a lot of people are going to be looking to blame someone for this and Harriman's just out to cause trouble for someone—at this point I just don't know."

"I should never have ducked behind that plant like that." Amanda shook her head. "But I saw you and I just did the first thing that popped into my head."

"Well, like you said before, you really didn't know," Lee replied.

"Tell me the truth, Lee. Did I really blow the entire operation?"

"No, not entirely. We'll probably still get a few convictions—just not the entire ring. Look, you can't completely blame yourself for this. Davison was already pretty nervous—he might have lost it even if you hadn't been there."

"Only I was there—there's no getting around that."

"No, probably not," Lee replied. "But I'm going to do all I can to make sure that you don't take the fall for this."

"I know you will." Amanda hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. "The truth is the truth, after all. I know when they look into it they'll figure it out."

Lee nodded. "Yeah—yeah, I'm sure they will."

"Yeah." Amanda paused. "Well, I guess I should get back inside—I need to finish the cookies and do some cleaning before the meeting. Good night."

"Good night, Amanda."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**7:00 PM **

"Damn it!" Harriman swore as he ripped another piece of paper out of the typewriter and crumpled it, tossing it into the overflowing wastepaper basket. The one time when he really knew what he wanted to write and the words simply refused to cooperate. He glanced over at the television—he'd turned the sound down but the images still flickered across the screen. Images from Dulles Airport— an agitated Davison being led away in handcuffs, shouting at the cameras.

"Just fantastic." Harriman muttered, rubbing his aching shoulder absently. Headline news for all the wrong reasons—the last thing he needed right now was a reminder of failure. If Stetson and that Mrs. King hadn't messed everything up—grabbing the remote he turned the set off and put a fresh sheet of paper in his typewriter. At that moment the phone rang.

More interruptions. With a sigh Harriman went into the kitchen and lifted the receiver. "Yeah?"

"Is that any way to talk to your friendly literary agent?" the man's voice said.

"What do you want, Barney?"

"Just to know if there's been any progress on that book of yours since we talked last," he replied. "In case you've forgotten, I negotiated a pretty hefty advance on your behalf—I have a right to know when it will pay off."

"No, I haven't forgotten. And I'm still working on it."

"Hopefully working on it involves more than filling your wastepaper basket." Harriman detected a faint trace of amusement in the man's voice—he clenched his fist. "Want to tell me anything else about this book? All you've said so far is that it's non-fiction."

"Well right now that's all you need to know. But I guarantee you—this will be the most important book of my career."

"Glad to hear it," Barney said. "Keep at it—remember, there's a deadline."

"I'll remember. Later." He put the receiver down and his shoulder gave a faint twinge, reminding him of why he was doing this—why this was so important. Filled with renewed purpose he sat back down at the typewriter. He had managed to write half a page before the phone rang again. If it was that agent again—muttering under his breath Harriman lifted the receiver.

"Yeah—hello?"

"I hope I didn't call at a bad time." Dirk's voice.

"No, you're fine. What's going on?"

"I wanted to let you know that we're still looking into the matter involving Sandstorm—so far we haven't turned up any proof of Mrs. King's involvement."

"I don't care about what proof you find!" Harriman snapped. "I know that Stetson brought her in. He mismanaged the whole operation—if it wasn't for him we'd have Davison and the whole ring."

"Frankly, I'm inclined to agree with you," Dirk said. "And also about Mrs. King." \

"It's not just Mrs. King." Harriman snapped.

"No, you're right. Civilian involvement has gotten way out of hand. They belong in the office—not in the field."

"Glad to hear that we're on the same page."

"Yes, we are." A brief pause. "However, there is another issue we need to discuss."

"What's that?"

"It's Davison—when they brought him in they took some of his blood for testing."

"Testing? What would they be testing for?"

"Drug use. Davison was still so agitated that the Doctors suspected that he might have something in his system."

"But the drugs we provided him with were synthetic."

"He could've easily taken the real thing in Miami. It would also dovetail with Stetson's description of the man's behavior. "

"You realize that if this got out, it might let Stetson and Amanda King off the hook."

"Yes—which is precisely why I'm telling you about it."

Harriman's mind raced—there had to be some way to deal with this—something that he could be done. "Have the test results come back yet?"

"No, not yet. I've asked them to put a rush on it, but you know the lab—it could still take a day or more."

"Is there any way that those results could be suppressed if they turn up positive?"

"You do know what you're asking, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know what I'm asking," Harriman said. "And I also know who I'm asking. Or have you forgotten?"

"No," Dirk told him. "I certainly haven't forgotten."

"I hope not. So can you do it?"

"It might involve twisting a few arms, but yes—if it's positive I should be able to keep it under wraps."

"I'm counting on you. Keep in touch, Dirk—I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone and returned to his typewriter, humming under his breath as he typed.

Maybe things were finally going to go his way.

**TBC **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**The Agency **

**Wednesday, June 13, 1984 **

**9:00 AM **

"Some coffee, Scarecrow." Francine placed the cup in front of him. "You look like you could really use it this morning."

"Yeah, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night." An understatement, he thought—his brain had simply refused to relax, the events of the day running through his head like a video that couldn't be turned off. He'd finally managed to drop off around one in the morning, only to find himself waking up every hour until the alarm clock had jarred him awake at seven. He took a swallow of the bitter hot liquid, feeling it run down his throat. "Thanks, Francine."

"Don't mention it," Francine said. "Any new developments on Sandstorm?"

Lee shook his head. "No, not much. So far it looks like we might get three convictions—possibly more if Powell testifies."

"Oh, speaking of Powell, I wanted to let you know that he called earlier."

"Really? What did he say?"

"Nothing—at least not to me." Francine handed Lee a piece of paper. "But he wants you to call him back at this number as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I'll do that." Lee took another swallow of his coffee as he glanced down at the number. Hopefully it was good news, though the tightening in his gut was telling him otherwise.

"So how's our celebrity housewife?"

Lee sighed. "Francine—"

"I'm sorry, Lee, but if she hadn't been there yesterday—"

"If she hadn't been there it still might have gone south. I'm telling you, the guy was already a bundle of nerves."

"So I've heard." Francine paused. "And Amanda was really there by accident?"

If someone asked him that one more time—Lee ran his hand back through his hair. "I've already said that she was."

"That's not what Harriman's saying."

Lee took another swallow of coffee. "At this point I don't give a damn what Harriman's saying."

"Well you have to admit it's a bit hard to swallow," Francine replied. "Though personally, knowing the way Amanda King manages to get herself into things—"

"Francine, don't you have anything better to do?"

Francine raised her eyebrows. "Touchy, touchy. I guess I'll be going. Oh, and Lee—Billy wants a situation report on his desk by the end of the day."

Lee nodded. "I'll get it to him don't worry." Francine left and he looked down at Powell's number. He might as well call him now and get it over with. He picked up his phone and dialed the number. After three rings Powell answered. "Yeah?"

"It's Lee Stetson. I was told you wanted to speak to me?"

"Yeah, I did. I saw the news reports this morning. Davison didn't make the exchange, I see."

News reports, Lee thought—of course he would have seen them. "No, he didn't make the exchange. He was jumpy—just like you said."

"Somehow I should've figured that would happen."

"You couldn't have known, Powell—none of us could."

"I guess not." Powell sounded resigned. "So what happens now?"

"We're going to try for what we can get. Your testimony should be very helpful in that regard."

"Yeah." A new note entered the man's voice. "I've been thinking about that. I don't know if I should testify."

Lee's gut tightened even further—this was what he'd been afraid of. "You're not thinking of backing out, are you?"

"I have my family to think about, you know." Powell said. "If you can't put all these people away—"

"You can help us put most of these people away," Lee told him. "We promised you protection."

A sigh. "I just don't know, Stetson. If someone finds out that I'm the one who leaked this—"

"They won't find out—like I said, we're going to do our very best to keep you safe." Out of the corner of his eye Lee saw Dirk and Harriman, walking together out of the bullpen. "At least meet with me so we can talk this over, huh?"

"Maybe." Powell said guardedly.

"I can be there in just a few hours."

"We can meet, but I'm not promising anything." Lee could hear voices in the background. "Listen, I've got to go—I'll call you later." Before Lee could say anything else there was a click followed by a dial tone. Swearing under his breath, Lee slammed the phone back down in its receiver.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**9:15 AM **

"This is not good news, Lee," Billy said. "If Powell backs out that's the whole case."

"I know that, believe me," Lee replied. "And I explained that to him—he's just frightened."

Billy sighed. "And I can understand why. But surely there must be some way to persuade him."

"Actually I was thinking about that—with your permission I'd like to fly to Miami and meet with him."

Billy nodded. "Do it, Scarecrow—the sooner the better. Let me know how it goes."

"I will. Thanks, Billy." Lee left the office. Billy looked at a stack of tapes in his inbox. All these transcriptions, he thought—what he needed was someone who could do them. The only question was who—it was an assignment that most agents dreaded. At that moment Francine came into the office, a stack of papers in her hands.

"Here are the reports you wanted to look at." She said.

"Thanks, Francine."

"No problem. Can I get you anything else?"

Billy looked at the tapes again. "Actually, yes you can. You see these tapes here?"

"You want me to do transcriptions?"

"You didn't let me finish," Billy said. "What I want you to do is contact Amanda King and ask her to come in and do them."

"Amanda? Are you sure that's wise?"

"Why not? She's still civilian auxiliary and she does good work."

"But Dirk—"

"Until Dirk says otherwise, Amanda still works here," Billy replied. "Unless he'd care to do the transcripts himself. Do it, Francine." Francine looked like she was about to say something else but decided against it, leaving the office and shutting the door behind her. Billy placed the cassette tapes in order of date. It would be good to keep Amanda around; he thought—to remind Dirk and the others of all that she did around here and how useful she was.

There was no way he was going to let her go without a fight.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"It seems the results came through quicker than I thought—the lab does good work," Dirk placed the papers on the desk in front of him. "Here you are—the results of the drug tests. Both copies, in triplicate."

"Excellent." Harriman's eyes gleamed. "And you're sure no one else has seen them?"

"No one except for the lab."

"So? What do they say?"

"To put it very simply, Davison tested positive for both amphetamines and for cocaine." Dirk leafed through the papers. "Both of which would explain the jumpiness and the paranoia."

"Sounds like it," Harriman replied. "The guy was just an accident waiting to happen. Is this the only copy of the test?"

"I retrieved both copies."

"If they find out, they might order another test."

"And what if they do? By the time anyone finds out the drugs will be out of his system."

"I worry too much, I guess," Harriman rubbed the back of his neck. "And you'll keep your end of the bargain, right?"

Dirk raised his eyebrow. "Depends on whether you uphold yours."

"Yes, I'll uphold mine—my newest book won't even mention your name."

Dirk gave a nod. "Exactly as it should be. " He opened his drawer and put the test results inside, locking the drawer and putting the key in his pocket.

"Wouldn't it be better to just destroy them?" Harriman asked.

"For you, perhaps. But let's just call this my little insurance policy," Dirk replied. "And I promise, you keep your end quiet and no ever hears about this from me."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**Airport Diner, Miami **

**2:30 PM **

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Lee took a seat at the booth across from the man. "I know this isn't easy for you."

"No, it isn't." Powell glanced around the room as he took a sip of his coffee. "Frankly, I'm not so sure I should be doing this. If I get caught—"

"You're not going to get caught. I promise you—no one outside our agency knows about your role in this."

"So you keep saying." The man let out a long sigh. "I just wish I could feel it. Ever since the arrests have been made I swear I can feel other people's eyes on me—probably wondering why I haven't been taken away too."

"But they don't know anything for sure—that's why you have to keep playing your cover."

He laughed. "Playing my cover. You know, a few months ago I would have thought that phrase belonged in a spy novel." He paused, his eyes meeting Lee's. "Do you have any children, Mr. Stetson?"

Lee shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Well that was the reason that I got involved in this to begin with," Powell said. "You hear all these horrific statistics about drugs in schools. I thought if I could do something to stop the trafficking, I don't know—maybe it would be worth it. But if they get off—"

"If you testify against them they won't get off."

"Will I be guaranteed protection either way?"

"Whatever happens, you and your family will be protected," Lee told him. "We'll do everything possible to assure your safety. But you have to understand how crucial your testimony is right now."

"I hear you." Powell took another sip of his coffee. "And the fact that you came down here means a lot. So I guess I'm still in this—for now at least."

"We really do appreciate it."

"Thanks. I just wish I could understand what went wrong with Davison—I keep thinking there's something that I could have done."

"Is there anything else you can tell me about his behavior?" Lee asked.

Powell frowned. "It was just very strange."

"Strange in what way?" Lee asked.

"He seemed okay at first," Powell said. "I greeted him, told him I had the stuff and everything seemed fine. Then he went to the restroom and when he came out he seemed kind of wired—very jumpy. It was almost like he was on something."

On something—Lee thought, the pieces clicking into place. That would explain Davison's nervousness, the paranoia –the way he'd acted about Amanda—it would explain everything. Had the lab tested Davison's blood yet? He had to get to a phone as soon as possible—let Billy know what was going on.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**The Agency **

**3:00 PM **

"You think Davison might have been on drugs?" Billy said.

"Makes sense." Lee's voice came over the speaker. "It certainly fits with his behavior at the airport and everything that Powell told me."

"He was also very agitated when he was brought in," Billy said. "If this is true, it would mean that Dirk and Harriman can't hold Amanda responsible for what happened."

"Exactly," Lee said. "Billy, stuff like that stays in the bloodstream for a couple of days at least—we need to test as soon as possible."

"I'll check with the lab," Billy replied. "It's possible that they may have already run the tests. So is Powell still on board?"

"For now, yeah. I'm heading back on the next available flight—I should be there in a few hours."

"Good job, Scarecrow—keep me posted." Billy switched off the speaker and picked up the phone, dialing the extension for the lab. A few rings and then a woman answered.

"Hello?"

"Yes, this is Section Chief Melrose," Billy said. "Is McJohn there?"

"Not right now, but he should be back soon—he had to run an invoice over to accounting," the woman replied. "I'm his assistant, though. Maybe I can help you?"

"Yes, maybe you can. I was calling to check on the possibility of running a blood test on a man we're holding—his name is Stuart Davison?"

"Davison?" The woman repeated. "That name sounds familiar. Just let me check—" Billy could hear the sound of typing in the back ground. "Yeah, we already ran a blood test on him—the results came out this morning."

"Excellent. Do you have the results?"

"Actually the results were picked up sometime earlier this morning—by Dirk Fredericks?"

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Yes—it says here that he also requested a rush on the test—said he needed the results ASAP."

Billy's mind raced. He was supposed to have been told about any developments and yet he hadn't been informed about the testing or the results. Dirk was apparently keeping him in the dark about this—the only question was why. "Do you have another copy of the report?" He asked.

"Yeah, there should be a second copy right here." The woman's voice sounded puzzled. "Oh wait—that's strange."

"What's strange?"

"I can't find it anywhere. I guess Mr. Fredericks must have taken the second copy by mistake."

"I guess so." A mistake—right now his instincts were telling him that it was anything but. "Is there anything else I can look at?"

"Sure—if you come down here I can let you look at the notes. McJohn should be back by then."

"Yes, thank you. I'll be down there right away." Billy hung up the phone and stood. At that moment the door opened and Harriman stormed in.

"Something I can help you with?" Billy asked the man.

A terse nod. "Yes, I'd like to know exactly what Amanda King is doing here."

"She's working."

"On what, exactly?"

"That's strictly need to know, Harriman."

Harriman's face flushed. "But the investigation—"

"Is still ongoing," Billy replied. "So until someone says otherwise, she'll continue to do her job."

"Sure," Harriman replied."But maybe not for too much longer."

"Mind telling me what that's supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Harriman muttered. "Look, I've got to go—I've got work to do." He left the office.

Stranger and stranger—Billy thought, watching as Harriman strode across the bullpen. He left his office and headed down towards the lab. He wasn't sure what was going on here, but he was determined to find out.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"Here's the Extracted Ion Chromatogram." McJohn pointed to the blue peaks and lines on the chart. "Directly underneath that is a complete breakdown of all the substances that were found in Mr. Davison's blood—the different percentages."

"I see," Billy said. Actually he didn't—most of it looked like gibberish to him, but he trusted McJohn—the man definitely knew his stuff. "How soon was this taken?"

"Within a couple of hours of his being brought in," McJohn replied. "And then we put a rush on it per Dirk's request."

"What exactly was found in his blood?"

"Cocaine, along with a healthy dose of Dexedrine."

"Dexedrine? Isn't that some kind of amphetamine?"

"That's exactly what it is."

"Do people normally take those together?"

"It has been done, yes," McJohn explained. "It's even possible that the amphetamine was actually in the cocaine—the amount was small, but the interaction would still be significant."

"What kind of effects would we be looking at with these substances?" Billy asked.

"The initial effects would've been pleasurable," McJohn explained. "But after that would come restlessness, agitation, anxiety—all the symptoms that Davison was displaying."

"I see." Billy handed the paper back to McJohn. "Could you write this up in another report for me?"

"Sure, I can do that. But you could simply ask Dirk for the second copy."

"Don't worry about that—I plan to be talking to Dirk very shortly. But I would still like another copy, if that's all right."

"No problem at all."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

To hell with them—to hell with them all.

Harriman swore under his breath as he went back to his desk. Not only had the mission been blown, his concerns belittled by Stetson and Melrose, but he still was forced to see her here, working like nothing had happened—

'Soon enough,' he told himself. Dirk would come through as promised and she would be gone. All he had to do was be patient. And then of course there was this—the one thing that would make this all worthwhile. Harriman opened his top desk drawer, pulling out a large manila envelope and opening it. The first three chapters of his new book—thirty pages plus a synopsis, all ready to be mailed to Barney. Only a rough draft, of course, but it was a good start.

"Excuse me—Mr. Harriman?"

Oh God, it was her voice. Hastily he shoved the papers back inside and glanced up at Amanda King. "Yes? What is it?"

"I didn't mean to bother you," she said. "But I had a question about a transcript I was working on."

Transcripts—so that's what Billy was keeping her busy with. He pulled a group of case files out of his inbox. "And why are you asking me? Go bother someone else."

"I understand that you're busy, sir, but since it involves one of your cases—"

"One of my cases?" His head jerked up sharply. "Which case?"

"Well it's about the Bruunhardt Defection—"

"Bruunhardt?" So Melrose was involving her in one of his cases now—that was going way too far. His hands clenched tightly and he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "That's a highly sensitive matter—a defection from Liechtenstein—it's strictly need to know."

"Yes I do understand that it's classified, sir." Amanda sounded slightly flustered. "But there's something in the tapes that's confusing me, and since it was your case, I just thought I'd ask—"

"Yeah, well don't. You have no business asking questions like that." Without waiting for her to say anything else Harriman stood and walked away. No more waiting for Dirk to make his move. He was going to talk to Billy again—and this time Billy was going to listen.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"So these are the drug test results on Stuart Davison?" Francine asked.

Billy nodded. "That's it. I'd say that it pretty much explains everything about his behavior that day."

Francine picked up the report and looked at it. "I'll say it does. With all that in his bloodstream I'm surprised he knew his own name. And Dirk didn't tell you about any of this?"

"Not yet."

"But surely he was going to. "

Billy sighed. "That's what I intend to find out. Can you file this second copy for me right away?"

Francine nodded. "Will do." She left the office and Billy picked up the phone, dialing Dirk's extension.

"Fredericks?" He said when Dirk answered the phone. "Melrose here."

"Yes, Billy—what do you need?"

"Oh, not much." Billy kept his tone casual. "I was just calling to see if there were any new developments regarding the Sandstorm investigation."

A moment of silence followed. "I said that I would keep you informed."

Not exactly a straight answer, Billy thought—not that he was really surprised at this point. "You're telling me that nothing new has happened?"

"That is what I said, yes. I've been told that Mrs. King is working there today?"

Only one person who would have told him that—looking through his window Billy could see Harriman at his desk. Amanda was at his desk too, talking to him—he couldn't hear what was being said but it was obvious that Harriman wasn't happy. "Is there any reason why she shouldn't be?"

"Not at the moment, no," Dirk replied. "Though as you know that might change."

"Oh, I have no doubt that a lot of things might change," Billy said. "Well I'll let you go now. You will let me know if anything comes up, won't you?"

"I've already said that I would. Good day, William." A click followed by a dial tone.

"Good day to you too." Billy muttered the words under his breath as he hung up the phone. So Dirk was lying to him, trying to cover up the test results. The only question was why? There was one person that he needed to talk to. As if on cue his door swung open and Douglas Harriman entered.

"Hello again," Billy said. "Something else I can help you with?"

"Yes, I want to know exactly why Amanda King is transcribing material from my cases."

"We've been through this before, Harriman. It's the work that she does. If you'd prefer to do your own transcriptions, I can arrange that."

"That's not what I mean," the man's voice rose. "But some of that material is classified. And when she starts asking me questions about it—"

"If she asks you questions you might answer them. Mrs. King does have a Grade 10 security clearance."

"She might now, but maybe not for much longer."

Billy took off his glasses and looked at the man. "You said that before. Something you want to fill me in on?"

Harriman shook his head. "No. But I'm sure that once this investigation into Sandstorm is complete she won't be working here much longer."

"Oh, you mean you haven't heard?"

Harriman looked startled. "Haven't heard what?"

"About Stuart Davison's blood test results."

"What test results?"

"You mean you don't know?" Billy studied Harriman's face closely as he spoke. Apart from a slight twitch around the jaw line, he couldn't note any other reaction. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"That Davison was high on cocaine and amphetamines when he was at the airport. You didn't know that?"

"No, I didn't." Harriman said. "But even if that's true, it still doesn't change the fact that Amanda King is a security risk. Dirk believes that as strongly as I do."

"You seem awfully certain about what Dirk believes. Why is that?" Harriman said nothing, his expression sullen. "Perhaps you've spoken to Dirk already?"

"And maybe you should leave this alone," Harriman shot back. "Unless you want Dirk to fire you as well." With that he left the office, slamming the door behind him.

Something was definitely going on here, Billy thought—the only question was what—and why.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**The Agency**

**Wednesday, June 13, 1984**

"You must have misunderstood me, Harriman." Dirk sat at his desk, feet up, the phone in his hand. "I never promised that the results wouldn't come out. I said that no one would hear about them from me. And they haven't."

"Really? Billy heard about them from someplace—he even had his own copy."

"And?"

"You told me that you took both of them."

"I did. I showed you."

"Then explain to me how the hell Billy got a hold of them. He wasn't even supposed to know that a test was run!"

"All I can tell you is that I didn't leak that information," Dirk said. "The rest is your problem."

"No, pal," Harriman replied. "Now it's your problem too."

Dirk's hand tightened on the receiver. "That better not mean what I think it means."

"Oh, you'll find out what it means. Believe me, this isn't over." A click, followed by a dial tone. Dirk stared at the receiver before slamming it down on the desk.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"I'm not sure about this, Melrose." Even over the phone Billy could hear the nervousness in Senator John McLaughlin's voice. "Dirk Fredericks is a respected member of the intelligence community. These accusations you're making—"

"I'm not making accusations," Billy replied. "At least not at this moment. I'm speaking to you as a friend and former colleague."

"Friend, yes—but I'm also a member of the Senate Intelligence Committee. And Sandstorm is still under investigation. This is a very serious matter."

"Believe me; I'm well aware of that."

"As long as we're on the same page." A pause. "Do you have a copy of Davison's test results?"

Billy nodded. "Yes, I do—several copies. I've also placed an extra copy with someone else." The someone else being his old friend Allen Aghaney, but McLaughlin didn't need to know that. "Just as an extra precaution."

"A bit paranoid, don't you think?"

"Can you tell me anyone in this business who isn't?"

McLaughlin chuckled drily. "Good point. Do you have evidence that he's trying to suppress these results?"

"I gave him every opportunity to tell me about them. And I know for a fact that he has both copies of the original report."

"Even so, those things could be explained away. And what would Fredericks stand to gain from suppressing those results? Why would he do that?"

"That's what I haven't figured out," Billy replied. "But I have my suspicions. Tell me, do you know anything that's going on with Douglas Harriman?"

"The author? Why do you ask?"

"Just a feeling." Looking through his office window Billy could still see Harriman, working at his desk. "Is there anything that you can tell me about him?"

"Nothing concrete, no," McLaughlin replied. "But there were rumblings a while back that he was working on a book—a book that wasn't fiction, if you get my drift."

"I see." A non-fiction book, Billy thought—it didn't necessarily mean anything, but still— "Do you have anything to substantiate these rumblings?"

"If I did, they would be more than just rumblings. As you know, book like that would be a breach of Harriman's security clearance."

"Yes—yes, it definitely would be." Billy's thoughts raced. "I'm going to have to let you go—for now this stays between us. Understand?"

"Understood. Let me know what you find out."

"Will do." Billy hung up the phone.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"He was high as a kite." Lee shook his head as he looked down at Davison's test results. "I thought he was just wound up—I can't believe I didn't see that."

"None of us did," Billy said. "Frankly, if you hadn't called, I probably would've been none the wiser."

"But why would Dirk withhold the copies?"

"At the moment I don't know. But I have a feeling that Harriman's involved in some way."

"Harriman?" Lee repeated. "What gives you that idea?"

"For one, he's been in here twice today to complain about Amanda working," Billy replied. "And he seems to be awfully chummy with Dirk these last couple of days."

"The man has a grudge against Amanda and civilian employees." Lee ran his hand back through his hair. "To tell you the truth, Dirk's not too crazy about them either. But still, to withhold information from a federal investigation—"

"I know what you mean, Scarecrow—but here's something else. Have you heard anything about Harriman writing a nonfiction book?"

Lee shook his head. "No, I haven't heard anything about that."

"Neither had I." Billy sighed. "It's just a rumor, at least for the time being. But if you could look into it and ask around—unofficially, of course."

Lee nodded again. "I'll see what I can do. What are you going to do?"

"The direct approach." Billy picked up the report and stood. "I'm going to go to the source—see if I can find out what's really going on here."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"Come in." Dirk called out as Billy knocked. Billy opened the door and entered the room. "What can I do for you, William?"

"Well, you can start by telling me the truth."

"The truth?" Dirk blinked. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Oh no?" Billy slapped the report down on Dirk's desk. "Then maybe you can explain this, and exactly why you were attempting to hide it from me." Dirk looked down at the report—maybe it was Billy's imagination, but he could've sworn that his face was paler. "And don't try anything," he said as Dirk's hand hovered over the papers. "Trust me, I have other copies."

Dirk pulled his hand away, "What makes you think that I was trying to hide this?"

"The fact that McJohn says you took the copies from the lab," Billy said. "Both copies."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. And what's more, you didn't even tell me that the test was being run. Anything you want to say?"

Dirk sighed, his eyes not meeting Billy's. "I was planning on telling you."

"When? After the investigation was over? You were concealing vital evidence in an investigation, Dirk—that goes against everything that this Agency is supposed to stand for. What I really want to know is why."

"You don't need to know why. I have my reasons."

"Reasons that involve smearing Amanda, Scarecrow and myself?" Billy asked. "I shouldn't have to remind you, Dirk—concealing evidence in a federal investigation is illegal."

"I don't need you to remind me." The Agency head stood. "This conversation is over."

"Why are you doing it, Dirk? Is someone pressuring you?"

"That isn't your concern."

"I think you'll find that it is my concern. What's this all about? Is Harriman holding something over your head?"

"I said, this conversation is over," Dirk's voice rose. "And as for Amanda King, as of this moment she's fired. Now get out of my office before I have you thrown out."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"It shouldn't be more than a few days, Amanda," Billy told her. "Maybe not even that long."

"I understand, sir." Amanda rose from her desk, picking up her purse and her jacket. "I am nearly finished with these transcripts, though, if you want me to wrap them up."

"Don't worry about them—they'll be taken care of."

"Yes, sir. But if there's anything at all that you need me to do—"

"No, not at this time," Billy told her. From the corner of his eye could see Harriman watching them from his desk, probably wondering what was going on. "We will call you when we need you."

"But if it's to do with the Sandstorm investigation—"

"The best thing that you can do right now is go home. Trust me; we will be calling you again."

For a moment Amanda looked like she was going to say something else. Instead she simply nodded and turned away. Billy stood there, silently watching as she went through the doors of the bullpen and disappeared down the hall.

"Dirk let her go, didn't he?" Lee's voice sounded from behind.

Billy let out a sigh. "Yes, he did."

"Is that what you told Amanda?"

"I didn't really have to—I think she knew."

"This shouldn't be happening."

"No, it shouldn't be. But she'll be back."

"Can you guarantee that?"

Billy nodded. "Things have been set in motion, Lee—and Dirk is desperate—that's why he fired Amanda. He should know that he won't be able to outrun this one."

"I sure as hell hope not," Lee spoke grimly.

"You and me both. Any news on the book?"

"Not much so far," Lee replied. "I spoke to the publisher, pretending to be a member of the press."

"And did he buy it?"

"Yeah." Lee said. "Harriman loves his publicity. Unfortunately, the only thing I got out of him was that this new book is a non-fiction—everything else is hush-hush."

"Even so, that might be something we can use if we have to."

"What are you going to do next?"

"The people investigating Sandstorm are going to get a copy of Davison's drug test very soon." Billy said. "Hopefully that should clear Amanda completely."

"Aren't you going to do anything else? We can prove that Dirk was trying to suppress this."

"Yes we probably can." Billy replied. "But for now we'll let him sweat it out —somehow I have a feeling that he'll be digging his own hole."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"I wish I could help you with this, Dirk," Senator Tom Geary said. "I really do."

It was coming, he knew it was. Dirk clutched the receiver tightly, fighting to keep his voice calm. "Is there some reason why you can't?"

A noisy sigh. "I think you know the answer to that."

"Why? Because you're running for reelection?" Dirk picked up his mug and took a swallow of his coffee, letting the bitter liquid seep down his throat. Normally, he hated cold coffee, but at this point he didn't really care. "In case you've forgotten, I was the one who helped you get the party's nomination in the first place."

"Believe me, I haven't forgotten," the senator replied. "But in case you've forgotten I'm also on the intelligence committee. And after what you tried to do to that report—"

That goddamned report again. "I had my reasons for doing that."

"I'm sure you did. But my opponent is scouring my background right now—if this got out I'd be sunk." A pause. "You understand, don't you?"

"Oh yeah, sure—I understand. Thanks for nothing, Tom." Dirk stared at phone for a moment, filled with a sudden urge to throw it against the wall. As good as that might feel, though—it wouldn't accomplish anything. With a sigh Dirk simply let the receiver drop back into the cradle. Taking a pen he crossed the senator's name off the list.

Fifteen calls so far, he thought—and it had been the same response every time. Thanks to Melrose and his nosing around, meddling in affairs which were none of his business. And then there was Harriman, of course. Dirk took another swallow of his cold coffee, replaying their last conversation in his mind:

_"Amanda King being gone changes nothing." Harriman had stared down at him, his expression filled with disgust, his eyes like two hard pebbles." You promised to suppress those results and you failed." _

_"I did my best, Douglas. I give you my word." _

_"Your word? Hell of a lot of good that does me."_

_"I want to help you," Dirk replied. "There must be something I can do—just tell me what it is." _

_"Nothing." Harriman had shaken his head. "The results are already out there. What do you think you can possibly do?" _

_"I don't know, but something. If that book of yours gets out and I'm in it—" _

_A harsh laugh. "Oh, I see—that's what you've been concerned about this whole time—covering your own ass." _

_"Douglas, listen—"_

_"No, pal—you listen." Harriman had leaned closer then. "My book is the least of your worries. If I were you I'd start thinking about what you're going to tell the attorney general." _

The least of his worries—Harriman was right on that point. If prosecutors got a hold of this—Dirk felt like a rat in a trap right now, running around and around, and never managing to find a way out. There had to be something else that he could do.

"Mr. Fredericks?"

The voice jerked him out of his reverie. Dirk looked up to see one of the janitors, standing in the doorway. "Yes?" He asked. "What can I do for you?"

"I didn't mean to bother you, sir," the man said. "Only it's nearly midnight—we usually clean your office around this time."

Nearly midnight—Dirk looked up at the clock, seeing that it was five minutes till—he'd been so busy with his calls that he hadn't even been paying attention. "I understand—I'll be out of here in just a few minutes."

"There's no rush, sir. Can I get you anything?"

"No, no—I'm fine. I'll be leaving soon." The janitor left and Dirk stared down at his list. All crossed out except for one name—was it worth it to make the call?

It had to be, he thought—there was nothing else he could do.

Picking up the phone he dialed the very last number.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Athenaeum Club **

**Thursday, June 14, 1984**

**4:30 PM**

"Thank you for agreeing to see me," Dirk said. "Especially on such short notice."

"Not a problem, Fredericks." Byron Sestak smiled thinly. He was seated at a table in the far corner behind an ornate pillar. "Have a seat, please—I took the liberty of ordering the French dip for you, along with a nice merlot. I know it's your favorite."

"Thank you, that's excellent." Dirk sat down and took a sip of his wine, looking across the table at his former mentor. "I suppose you've heard about what's been going on."

"Heard, yes—I may have retired but I still have my contacts," Sestak replied. "And it would seem that you've gotten yourself in quite a mess this time. Suppressing key evidence in the Sandstorm investigation? "

"Let's just say that I was returning a little favor."

"Really? From what I heard you were trying to keep yourself out of Harriman's newest book." Sestak shook his head warningly. "Best not to lie to me, particularly if you want my help."

"You know about the book?"

"Bits and pieces," Sestak said. "Only rumors, I'm afraid. But that's beside the point. You know there will be an investigation into what you did."

"And there's no way to stop that?" Dirk said.

"And continue in your current position? No, I'm afraid not."

Of course there was no way to stop it. Part of Dirk had known that all along. Hearing it said out loud, however, still felt like a punch to the gut. "What am I going to do now?"

"That's up to you," Sestak said. "You could try to brave the whole thing out, but with all the evidence against you I doubt you would win. And in the process your career and reputation would be ruined."

"Surely there's some alternative."

Sestak was silent for a few moments, drinking his wine. Finally he spoke.

"It just so happens that I have an open position at my security firm," he said. "You would be operating in an advisory capacity, you understand—nothing in the field."

"Understood. What would it pay?"

"I don't have those exact details, but I can promise you a good salary and decent benefits," Sestak said. "Nothing comparable with what you've been receiving at the Agency, of course, but we can't have everything."

Beggars can't be choosers, Dirk thought, feeling a twinge of bitterness as he sipped his wine. "What would I have to do?"

"Do? Just resign. You'll avoid a costly investigation and trial and the job is yours."

"Can I think about this?"

"Of course." Sestak took his wallet from his jacket pocket and handed Dirk a card. "Call me at this number once you've made up your mind. Though I would advise you not to think too long."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**8:30 PM **

"Come on, damn you—answer." Dirk muttered the words under his breath as the phone rang and rang. A click came next, followed by a recorded voice:

'Hey, this is Harriman. As you can see, I'm not home right now. If you'd like to leave a message, please do so after the beep and I'll get back to you. Thank you."

"No, thank you," Dirk muttered under his breath. Not at home—for all he knew Harriman was right there, screening all his calls. He'd be damned if he was going to give him the satisfaction of leaving a message. He hung up the phone and starred down at the piece of paper on his desk, the seven words he had written there:

'I, Dirk Fredericks, hereby resign my post…..'

There was more to write, of course, Dirk thought, picking up his pen. Much more, though technically these were all the words that he needed. But was that really all it would come down to? All the years in the field and behind a desk, all to end with nothing more than a brief letter to show for it? For a job that would basically amount to a demotion? And Billy, Scarecrow, Amanda—even Harriman—they would have all won. Was he really prepared to let them do that? He dropped the pen and picked up the piece of paper, holding it tightly between his fingers. All he had to do was crumple this in his hand, toss it in the wastepaper basket, and it would be done.

Then he thought about what lay ahead. Investigations, senate hearings, details being splashed all across the press—his gut tightened and he let the paper drop back down on the desk.

The sound of the phone ringing shattered the silence. Maybe it was Harriman? Dirk picked up the phone. "Yeah?"

"It's Geary." The senator's voice filled his ears. "I just talked to Senator McLaughlin."

The head of the Senate Intelligence Committee. Dirk swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling like it had been washed out with sand. "And?" he managed to say.

"And he told me that he's planning on opening a formal investigation into this matter, starting Monday."

It would be Monday, of course. "Is there anything else?"

"Not right now, but it doesn't look good," Geary replied. "I just wanted to give you a heads up—I feel like I owe you that much."

"Right, right." Dirk stared down at the letter again, the words blurring. "Thank you."

"No problem. Take care."

"Yeah. You too." Dirk hung up the phone and turned back to the letter.

'I would advise you not to think too long….' Sestak's voice sounded in his head. Picking up his pen Dirk started to write once more.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**Monday, June 18, 1984 **

**7:30 AM**

"Letter for you, Mr. Melrose," the courier said.

"Thank you." Billy took the envelope. Just a plain white envelope, he thought, turning it over in his hands—no name, address, or anything. He looked up at the courier. "You wouldn't happen to know who this is from, would you?"

The courier shook his head. "No idea. I was just told to deliver it to you personally. Is there anything else?"

"Nothing else," Billy replied. "Thank you." The courier left and Billy opened the envelope, revealing a small folded note. The outside of the note read 'Code Delta Purple', with a purple triangle beside the words. Follow the instructions without question, Billy realized—an old protocol from way back, when he'd first started in the field. Carefully he unfolded the paper. The note itself was brief and to the point, with a set of numbered instructions. Billy perused them carefully. A knock sounded on his office door.

"Come in," he called, folding the note and placing it back in the envelope. The door opened and Francine came in.

"Good morning," she said. "Brought you your coffee, and the files you asked for yesterday."

"Thanks, Francine." Billy took the cup from her and took a sip. "Just put the files in my inbox."

"No problem." A pause. "So did you hear about what happened with Dirk?"

"Afraid not, but then I just got here. What happened?"

"He resigned—sent his letter in just this morning."

Resigned. Billy had expected it to come at some point, but this coming this soon was a surprise. Somehow he'd thought that Dirk would've fought tooth and nail to keep his position. "Are you sure?"

Francine nodded. "Absolutely sure—it's all over the Agency."

Now that wasn't a surprise, Billy thought drily, taking another swallow of his coffee. For such a large organization, news around here tended to spread like wildfire. "Any other news?"

"Just that the letter said something about personal and family obligations. I'm sure there will be more."

"That's one thing I'm absolutely sure of." Billy looked down at the envelope. Did this have anything to do with Dirk's resignation? It could just be a coincidence, of course—but somehow he doubted it.

"Well I promise I'll keep my ears open," Francine replied. "Is there anything else?"

"Actually, there is," Billy took another sip of the coffee. "I'm taking an early lunch and I won't be able to make the eleven thirty budget meeting. Could you be there instead?"

Another nod. "Not a problem."

"Thanks, Francine. And if you can also find me a map of Rock Creek Park, I'd appreciate it."

"Will do." Francine left the office and Billy looked down at his coffee. Almost empty—usually he'd wait a couple of hours for his second cup, but after all the news this morning he needed it now. He tucked the envelope in his jacket and stood, going out into the bullpen. Lee was at the coffee maker filling his own cup as Billy approached.

"Morning, Scarecrow." Billy said.

"Morning." Lee filled his cup and put some cream in, stirring it. "You heard about Dirk?"

Billy nodded as he refilled his cup to the brim, adding sugar and cream. "I think everyone has at this point."

"That's the truth. Someone will have to fill that position, of course—the only question is who."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

"True," Lee admitted. "The only problem is that they might not be much better than Dirk was."

"Who knows," Billy told him, thinking back to the envelope. "Maybe things will start to improve around here."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**11:45 AM**

He was here.

Billy pulled up into the parking space, the far left corner of the parking lot, right in front of the public golf course. Exactly as directed. The lot itself was nearly empty, he thought, looking around. Only one red corvette and a couple of golf carts—no people nearby that he could see. He looked down at the note again. Turn on the radio—no particular station or frequency listed. That didn't make much sense, but with Delta Purple you didn't question. Billy switched it on and an ad for Liberty Larry's filled his ears, promising deals on cars with only $99 down. The next instruction on the note was only one word, simply stated.

Wait.

At that moment a dark blue Lincoln Town Car pulled up beside his car. Was this who he was waiting for? Billy tried to see through the windows but the glass was tinted—all he could see was a profile.

"Thank you for meeting with me here, Melrose."

The voice seemed to come directly out of the radio. "Don't worry, you can talk to me as well."

"Yes, sir," Billy replied. "And you are?"

"You can just call me Blue Leader." A brief pause. "I know this is a bit unorthodox, but it's the way that I prefer to handle things. We may meet face to face at some later date."

"I understand."

"Excellent. By now I'm sure you've heard about Frederick's resignation?"

"Yes, I have," Billy replied. "Apparently he sent in a letter citing personal and family obligations?"

"Only we both know that isn't true."

Billy nodded. "Of course."

"I'll be taking over Frederick's post, at least for the time being," Blue Leader continued. "And in light of his resignation, the formal investigation into the cover-up has been called off—the committee didn't feel there was any reason to pursue the matter."

"Understood." Standard operating procedure in situations like this, he knew. "So what happens now?"

"The drug test has been entered into evidence," Blue Leader told him. "And both Scarecrow and Amanda King have been completely cleared—it's quite evident that her involvement was accidental. Mrs. King should resume her former position immediately, with no mention of this on her record."

"Agreed."

"I've also been looking at Mrs. King's records, and I have to say that for a civilian employee her record is quite impressive. Particularly her work with Scarecrow. I would like it if she could continue in that capacity."

"Also agreed," Billy replied. "I think that Mrs. King has a lot of potential."

"That she does—and I think she could go far with this Agency."

"What about Harriman and his book?"

"We'll continue to keep an eye on that situation," Blue Leader said. "Until we have definitive information about what is in there, that's all we can do. What concerns me now is his attempt to influence Dirk to suppress evidence. For now I want him placed on desk duty pending a review."

"That's a good idea," Billy replied.

"Any other questions?"

"Just one. Exactly how much of our meeting can I reveal?"

"Just tell everyone that Blue Leader is in charge for now—and there will be more changes in the week ahead. I may not be in the office, but trust me—I will be in charge. That's all for now, Melrose."

"Thank you, sir." A brief crackle of static, and Billy found himself listening to classical music. The town car pulled away and out of the parking lot.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

**The Agency **

**1:30 PM **

"Gather around everyone, please." Billy called out as he stepped into the bullpen. "I have an announcement to make." The agents and other workers gathered around as he spoke, including Lee and Francine. And then there was Harriman. He stood on the outskirts of the group just staring at Billy, his arms crossed and his expression stony. Best to ignore him for now, Billy thought—he'd deal with him in a moment.

"As we all should know by now," he continued. "Dirk Fredericks has resigned, apparently due to family and personal matters. I would like you to know, however, that as of this afternoon, his position has been filled."

"By who?" Lee asked.

"For now he prefers to be known only as Blue Leader," Billy replied.

"Blue Leader?" Francine repeated, her tone incredulous. "That's it?"

"That's it for now, Francine. As I understand it, we may not see Blue Leader in the office or have much direct contact with him, but trust me—he will still be in charge." Harriman was still staring at him—Billy wondered what the man was thinking. "And we can also expect some changes to come in the next week or so—I will keep you all informed as they occur. Any other questions?" No one raised their hands. "Very good. And Harriman? I'd like to see you in my office as soon as possible."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Harriman asked.

"That I did," Billy replied, drawing his blinds. "Please—take a seat."

"I'd prefer to stand, if you don't mind," the man replied frostily.

Billy shrugged. "Do what you like." He sat down behind his desk. "This shouldn't take long."

"What shouldn't take long? What's going on?"

"What's going on is that I'm putting you on review, Harriman. As of this moment you're on desk duty."

"Desk duty?" Harriman's voice rose. "Why would I be on desk duty? I haven't done anything wrong."

"Oh no? " Billy raised his eyebrows. "You attempted to blackmail someone into suppressing vital evidence in a federal investigation. What exactly would you call that?"

A long silence. "You can't prove anything," Harriman replied finally.

"Maybe not in a court of law," Billy said. "And since Dirk's resignation the investigation into the matter has been closed. However, there is enough circumstantial evidence to put you behind the attempted suppression—you had both the motive and the means, and we all saw you going in and out of Dirk's office."

"That still proves nothing."

"I think we'll leave that up to the review board. You won't be able to threaten them with that book of yours."

"The book? How did you find out about that?"

"Let's just say I have my ways—and my contacts."

"And exactly where are these orders coming from? From you?"

"Oh I thought you would've guessed by now," Billy told him. "These orders come directly from Blue Leader." He watched in satisfaction as Harriman's face paled slightly. "Any other questions, Douglas?"

"Not for now, but I don't intend to take this lying down."

"That's up to you," Billy said. "And something else I thought you should know—as of today Amanda King is reinstated."

Harriman's face grew even paler. "On whose authority?"

"The authority of Blue Leader," Billy told him. "Get out to your desk now, Harriman. You have some work to do on your expense report and I expect it tomorrow morning."

Harriman's fists clenched and Billy tensed, anticipating a confrontation. Instead Harriman simply turned and marched out of the office, the door slamming shut behind him.

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

Melrose couldn't do this to him.

Harriman fumed as he walked back to his desk, mindful of the stares and whispers that seemed to follow him. Bad enough that he'd been put on review, an agent of his stature relegated to the position of a mere office boy. But then to let Amanda King just waltz back in after all the trouble she'd caused him— as if nothing had happened? In his head he could just picture Melrose's face—that smug smile as he'd told him the news. He'd enjoyed doing that, Harriman, thought. He wanted to humiliate him.

"Would you mind watching where you're going? You nearly knocked me down!"

A woman's voice. Harriman looked down at one of the young women from the steno pool—Tracy? Stacie?—he couldn't remember her name. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I wasn't paying attention."

"You might try paying attention next time," the woman shot back, walking away from him. Snickers sounded and Harriman felt his face burning—without another word he quickly walked back to his desk and sat down. Across the aisle he could see the empty desk—the desk where the King woman worked. Not only would he be stuck in this place, but he would have sit here and see her every day—a constant reminder.

'There must be something I can do to stop this.' The only question was what? Dirk was gone now. Maybe he could go to Blue Leader and explain his side of things? No, that wouldn't work. He couldn't go to someone when he didn't even know who he was. From what Billy had said the man wouldn't be spending much time inside his office. Should he resign? That would be the easy way out, though—he wasn't about to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing him leave like that. His book—right now that was the only thing he had. Melrose might know that he was writing one but he didn't know what it was about. He'd find out when it was finished, though, Harriman thought. They all would. Melrose, Stetson, and especially Amanda King—he'd make sure that they would all pay dearly for what they had done to him and his career.

In the meantime, however, all he could do was lie low and bide his time. With a sigh he opened his top desk drawer and pulled out his expense vouchers and the report form.

**The Agency **

**Tuesday, June 19, 1984**

**9:00 AM **

"It's certainly good to see you here, Amanda," Billy said.

"Thank you, sir, it's good to be back." Amanda sat in a chair beside Billy's desk, with Lee seated beside her. "I didn't know that it would be so soon, though. They've already finished the investigation?"

"Actually," Lee told her. "The investigation was closed after Dirk decided to resign."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Dirk actually resigned?"

Billy nodded. "It's a long story, but yes, he had to resign."

"What did he do?"

"Let's just say that that he was attempting to influence the investigation by suppressing evidence that Davison was using drugs."

"Which means that you weren't responsible for his behavior at the airport," Lee added. "Amanda, this would've gone wrong even if you hadn't been there."

"That's certainly a relief," Amanda said. "What about Dirk's position?"

"It's been filled," Billy said. "As of now this agency is being run by Blue Leader."

Amanda's brow furrowed. "That's his name?"

"No, but that's what he prefers to be called," Lee replied.

"Wow." Amanda shook her head. "So much has happened in just the last couple of days. What about Mr. Harriman?"

"For the time being he's on desk duty," Billy said. "But the important thing for you to know is that Sandstorm is over for good—it's erased from your record. With any luck you'll never have to think of it again." He leaned across the desk and extended his hand. "Welcome back, Amanda."

Amanda shook his hand. "Thank you very much, sir."

**SMK SMK SMK SMK **

"Do you think Mr Melrose is right?" Amanda asked Lee as they left the office.

Lee looked at her. "Do I think he's right about what?"

"That it's over."

Lee sighed. "A-man-da—"

"It's just that Harriman just doesn't seem like the type to give up that easy."

"Yeah, well he really doesn't have a choice." They walked over to the coffee machine and Lee poured a cup for himself and Amanda. "Billy clipped his wings."

Amanda glanced over at Harriman, working at his desk. He looked up, meeting her eyes briefly before he turned away. "No, I guess he doesn't."

"Just relax, okay?" Lee handed Amanda her cup. "This was just another case."

"Except that it really wasn't like any other case, though—was it?

"You're right." Now that Amanda mentioned it Lee could see her point—this hadn't really been like any other case. "But whatever it was, it's done—finished."

"And I'm back," Amanda said. "And we're still going to be working together."

"Yes, we'll probably be working together on some things."

Amanda smiled. "And no one will ever mention Sandstorm again."

"Never again."

"Yeah." Amanda paused, her eyes looking into his. "Well I guess I should probably get back to work now. I'll see you later?"

Lee smiled. "See you later, Amanda."

**The End**


End file.
